Putting the Lockdown into Perspective

Drinking-at-B-B-Lounge. (Nile Post)

President Museveni did not bother with allowing bars to open. I think he also realised that the bars were opened just a day after lockdown.

On 23rd March 2020, my neighbor turned his bar into a restaurant. On the menu rolex, chapatti and omelette.

Mzei Kalaso goes to the restaurant for lunch and comes out at 8pm, singing obangaina. Then LDUs who guard the gate arrest him for breaking curfew rules.

Basically, the LDUs only offer security to premises and patrons when inside the restaurant/bar and one can drink as much as he/she wishes and stay as long as someone so wishes. But once it clocks 7pm, you have 3 options: remain inside the restaurant/bar till morning, invite the LDUs inside for a drink or pay them to escort you to your house. They are very nice. Thank you very much, Museveni for bringing LDUs.

Another thing which had to stop was the music. The sound system was disabled and you would find people watching NTV news with the volume down to zero. They make use of the sign language and experts like us depend on the lip reading experience to know what the news anchor is saying. The challenge was "zungulu".

But fear Arsenal fans. On the day they won against Manchester City in the FA Cup, they blew their own cover. They noisily celebrated for 30 minutes.

Then I remembered the Police Officer who directed a butchery to turn off his loud music. There was no presidential directive whatsoever that we should stop loud music and indeed there is no scientific link between loud music and Covid-19.

But that officer was intelligent, he realised that everytime the loud music played, it was meant to distract the police from noticing that people were playing "matatu" or card game or ludo, just behind the police post.

People are pretty smart!

They are smart like me. Now that salons have been allowed to operate, I shall be going to Mbale this weekend to cut off my hair. This hair and I have tolerated each other for all these 4 months.

I would have cut my hair from here in Kampala but Jerome has told me that there is a salon which is offering discounts in Mbale. I can't miss that. I shall get on the first bus on Saturday so that by midday, I shall be done with the barber and return to Kampala.

While in Kampala, I shall return my DP party card to Norbert Mao and ask for a refund of my membership fee. I want to join another party!

A Peak into Uganda's Social Media Groups

A few years ago, some Ugandans made it a rule that I should write an article of 1000 words everyday for the rest of my life if I am to remain in their group as a member. But then I wondered, If my audience can’t even read 20 words, what shall I do with a “1000” words article? But Lawrence is a tough lad, he insisted on 1000 words. He told me that I should stop writing for those ones and start writing for myself. I broke the rules continuously and they removed me from that group. There are times like now when I think that I miss being part of that group; given chance, I would rejoin it and try my best to adhere.

But before that happens, today I will write about Uganda and its social media groups. This love emanated from my mentor’s commentary that she shared in our WhatsApp group, the need for individuals, companies and nations to use social media diligently and make the best of it, which we have not yet embraced to full capacity. 

Many Ugandans are being weighed down by the burgeon of numerous social media communities. These groups are of tremendous importance to the members but you will agree with me that most associations mean no good to many of their members.

If the uneducated fellows wake up in the morning and hung around on verandas and along the streets, there has emerged a new form of idlers; educated, they wake up every morning, buy or borrow data bundles and “hung out” on their phones.

They are good at greeting while looking for a person to provoke into a conversation.

"mng"

"hi guys"

"gud mng"

"gm"

Then someone posts a funny picture and the madness begins.

The groups are well coordinated and most of them hate sense. They idle throughout the day but if you want to taste their wrath, post anything of more than 2 paragraphs.

In fact some have formed ground rules. They brutally resist sense and you risk being removed for posting much of it. But come on, they remove you in the morning and put you back in the evening because they want numbers to boast of.

The social groups will mostly advertise concerts, house parties, graduations, marriage ceremonies and even death. When they advertise the concerts most of them promise to go, when one of their own loses a relative there is that level of solidarity and a somber mood takes on the day. Then the group administrator suggests that they collect condolence for the bereaved. Such announcement shall be followed by stone silence. After that the fun continues, only 3 out of the 200 attended the burial.

These groups have cliques and they are bound to frequent fights; some are settled by one or two persons quitting the group or a distraction from another member who has not been following the conversation. But they also have a panel of kangaroo judges. They will always point out who was in the wrong, the arbitrators who try to neutralize tense moments and that rude administrator who thinks that he or she is always right.

So today having woken in a lugubrious mood, I thought I would annoy one or two people and get a basis for my article. All I did was open WhatsApp only to be met with a person asking us to join his group of a Houseparty which will be held on 1st April 2021 “Fools Day”. I would have said something worse but I chose the following;

“What do Ugandan youth do in their WhatsApp groups? They create a group everyday but there seems no difference being in one out of 10.

Mark Zuckerberg should put a cost to creating a WhatsApp group and servicing”

And the reply was not as bad as I hoped it would be, “I won’t say anything about your closed retarded mind!!!”.

That was enough to get me started. It also drew me to what a one Muthoni posted in a WhatsApp group asking what has gone wrong with the youth of Mbale;

“Mbale has issues

The youths don’t want to work

They are the ones that like partying every day

They are the ones that negotiate with the club guards to get free entrance

It’s even worse; they enter the club to beg drinks

It’s worse still on women's side, and some men

They offer them the drink; they return it to the counter to get money.”

She was removed from the group.

This fuss about the youth is at times frustrating but maybe some honesty may save a few souls; if we are truly the pillars upon which this nation is set, are we the ones we were waiting for? How shall we manage this nation if the majority youth spend the best part of their time greeting, insulting or praising each other on social? How shall we claim the future and the present if one cannot read 500 words a day? How shall we claim to be the leaders of today if we cannot even read the first page of our constitution.

Don’t we think that we need to be honest with ourselves, the world, the future generations and honest to Golola? We need to tell him that we cannot do any better. We are not merely products of bad education system but we seem to have taken and owned the failed system, we have seized it and we are carrying the bad package to our children and our children’s children but only in a creative way.

Before we can revoke the law that regulates the use of WhatsApp and Facebook, before the president of Uganda can punish you who misuse social media why can’t we repent our ways and learn to engage productively? Can’t we learn from our bad past and correct the present? If those that lived a generation before us faced difficulties accessing information and getting closer to people who matter, we are facing the same difficulty not in accessing people who matter but associating with people that do not matter.

I know that a person reads athousand words expecting to be motivated, inspired or at least exhilarated but today I thought that I could pen down something that can annoy you, move you to action. I wanted that by the time you have finished reading this article, you could have looked for the EXIT button and left the group that does not add any value to you!

Recalling the Shooting at Quality Supermarket, Nalya

Somehow social media picks us from our dust and places us on the same bench with people of very high status. Imagine, me a graduate of one UPE school in Nakunuku also coming here to give opinion on the behavior of someone who studied at Oxford and Leeds universities. Mugisha Arnold who was shot by a security at Quality Supermarket in 2019.

Despite all the hype however, I learnt to maintain my silence and only comment on issues of my "level".

Things like one shooting another is beyond me. I will passionately comment on Mama Rhoda increasing the price of katogo, raising the taxi fare from Bwaise to Namungoona, bodaboda accidents and maybe our ghetto gladiator Bobi Wine who has refused to leave us and enjoy his wealth alone.

Those matters are of highly placed people are complicated and most of all we have our own problems to solve. Just the other day, before lockdown, a guy was stopped from entering a certain mosque because he was not well dressed. I also wondered what took him to such a magnanimous Mosque to disturb the other God who listens to issues such as land titles, real estates and foreign trips for vacation. You take there your problems of a ka-boda boda accident?

Arnold Mugisha who was shot (Internet Photo)

Let us just stay in our lane; let the trolleys roll. After all we have never gone to a supermarket and bought merchandise  enough to fill a trolley. Let the bullets fly; after all some of you are too poor for a bullet to be wasted; one iron bar and you're down. Do you remember Dans Kumapesa?

In my opinion, I think that the askari was right and wrong. If his colleague was run
over for blocking the car from behind, instead of this other one picking a gun he should have run in front of the car. Block it from the front and behind and see whether the guy would have run over two guards in the same day.

Quality Shopping Village - Scene of the shooting

I still doubt whether rich people are allowed to kill more than one poor person in a day.

Meanwhile am unhappy that Mama Naki has lost a relative in Kalisizo and she must go for burial. Not that I feel for her but she wants all of us, her debtors to pay the weekly food fee on Friday instead of the usual Sunday evening. M
bu she wants to get money enough to travel to her village for burial.

The Great Expectations: Mbale City

Miss Daisy Nagudi poses for a photo on Republic Street (Facebook photo)

Mbale as a city is finally operational. But due to the scavenging COVID-19, the city has not been welcomed with the well known kadodi and fiesta which envelopes Mbale when people are supposed to be happy. It is even more annoying that COVID-19 cannot allow our "Road Meir Zanywa" to address us about the new developments and probably unwrap the benefits accruing to the attainment of such status. But as a city enthusiast, I want to preempt what our "Meir" was too shy to tell us on this spectacular achievement.

We have tried, as a Council of Mbale City Enthusiasts (CMCE) to compile ten expected benefits and we shall present them to you one by one from one up to ten. We don't want anyone to be shocked when you find yourself with a bouquet so huge that you cannot hold.

Presenting the expected benefits as compiled by CMCE

1. City status

From today, all dwellers and those born in Mbale should edit their addresses to add the word "city". Failure to honor this shall attract a heavy penalty which may be as heavy as banishment from the city. 

2. Jobs

Having been declared a city, all "dirty jobs" and those jobs which endanger lives of the city dwellers shall be reserved for people from outside the city. People who work in despisable positions like Executive Directors, Human Resource Managers, Banking officers, Engineers, Doctors, nurses, teachers, lawyers et cetera will be reserved for non-city dwellers. The city dwellers shall be expected to engage in prestigious occupations such as sports betting, hanging around big politicians, being political assistants and running social media pages. Basically, city dwellers need to only involve themselves in those jobs which don't cause stress and strain.

Mbale Clock Tower- the Central point of the Town - Daily Monitor

3. Weekly Allowances

We shall be entitled to a weekly allowance. At first, this allowance was supposed to come monthly but we factored in the need for weekly recuperation until our propensity to save improves. There is no specific amount set for the allowances, they will depend on your needs. These allowances shall be a preserve for only those who opt not to work. If anyone is tired of working, they can just sit at home, send in their weekly requisition to the city finance director and the money shall be instantly wired to your account.

4. Administration

In fact, Zanywa who is our first "Meir" was not born in Mbale. We shall not allow our own people to administer Mbale City. We shall be hiring people from other parts of Uganda and make them "Road Meirs", Councilors, RCC, and those other administrative positions. We shall not afford the indignity of our own being a Member of Parliament to endure long hours in the National assembly and yet you need to spend time with your family. Therefore, people from Busiu, Bungokho and Bufumbo should prepare themselves to come and do this administrative work of the city as we chill.

5. Marriage and family

Marriage shall be compulsory to all people and the city shall have a special budget to facilitate marriage functions from home to the church. We shall then treat you to all expense-paid honeymoon in Bahamas. We want to simplify life for our people. Otherwise, what is the city for if it cannot offer paradise to its people? One can even marry more than once in a year but can only be married to one person at ago.

Because we understand the side effects of child birth, all children shall be born through surrogacy if approved by religious leaders who are still under lockdown.

6. Education

With this kind of life, what do you need education for? When our citizens want to move out of the city to alien places where they cannot speak Lugisu, they shall be availed a translator. So long as one knows how to post on Facebook and hurl some insults at opposing politicians, that is enough! The money which would otherwise be wasted on education shall be spent on facilitating brothels and paying for our people's luxuries.

7. Medical Care

We shall set up the best hospitals but outside outside the city. Generally, we don't like the smell of medicine and contagion from health officers. We shall therefore purchase land from surrounding districts and set up magnificent hospitals which shall be run by doctors who do not reside in the city. Whoever falls sick shall immediately be picked and dumped in the hospital for care.

8. Religion

We are tying to figure out whether we actually need different buildings for different religions especially those who pray on different days and those who pray on the same days and to the same god. We think that we can use the same building on Monday for witchdoctors, Tuesday for Budhists, Friday for Muslims, Saturday for the SDA and then Sunday for the Christians. This selfishness which makes people build prayer houses next to each other shall not be tolerated. If this fails, we can hire descendants of guys who built the Tower of Babel to put up a single structure for all religions to occupy but on different floors.

9. Housing

All land and houses shall belong to the City Authority and therefore, you can sleep anywhere you wish to. If you went to Bukonde and it gets dark when you're there, just look for a house and occupy, sleep and own it for that night. We want to return the good old life of hunting and grazing. Sleep wherever darkness finds you, all houses belong to the city center.

10. Transport

We don't need roads and railways. We just need an airport for those people who will be landing in from villages. Don't expect the city council to fix those potholes and repair the outdated railway, we shall have a transport system never seen before.

However, as you await the fulfillment of these fantasies, you must remember that it all comes down to  you, as an individual. This rubbish-town maybe elevated to whichever status there is, but the challenges in your life will only be met by personal effort. It will take your individual courage to thrive; consistent, bold steps that you take everyday is what will make you.

And maybe, you may also choose to live as a villager or a rascal in the so-called city!

A Dream That is

I used to only dream on those nights after eating cassava. But yesterday, no cassava but I had a dream, it is not like the Martin Luther dream, it was a horrible dream. And as a good Catholic, when I awoke, I held onto my rosary, I made a petition to God, I implored the Virgin Mary and my Saint Denis to intercede, to pray for us. It was a very bad dream that I never wish to see happen. When I got out of bed, I thought that I would share it with “my people”. I thought that all the people should know that what lies ahead may not be the best, at least in dreams

THE DREAM

Picture of a man killed by Kenyan Security Forces (internet)

In this dream, we were traveling on a ragged bus from Kampala and upon reaching Magodes Trading Centre, the driver stopped and informed us as we can ease ourselves before continuing.

Just like the other passengers, I also looked for a tree trunk. But, as I emptied my bladder, I beheld a man being led by 5 elderly fellows. Since all others were just looking, I also just looked and after the call went back to the bus.

As we settled to set off, I realised that all the passengers were mum with their heads bent. The woman seated adjacent was sobbing but suppresively. I equally bowed my head and asked my co-passenger to know what happened to the man who was seated with the woman adjacent.

“The man is Bwire Francis, he has been hacked by people who took him off the bus while we were out. They were accusing him of belonging to a group of politicians, which group they don’t like.

End!

AFTERMATH

The dream shook me to the marrow because there are so many times when I have thought that maybe one day I will be picked in the same way; from the bus, private car or office, I will be picked from the streets, bodaboda or home. Maybe I will be picked from a hotel room, dinning or from a bar. The dream was terrifying but I prayed that if am to be picked one day, they better not humiliate but kill me wholesomely. I don't mind dying and no one remembers, but they should not pluck out my heels or remove my eye, they should not tie weight to my testicles or electrocute me.

To you the authors of death, “When i annoy you and you feel like you can't endure me anymore, take me to a bush, tie me to a tree and fire the bullets, let me know when I am going to die so that I can say my last prayer but don't torture and leave me disabled, just hit my head hard with a club so that in an instant I will be no more. Don't use a lethal injection, keep your midozalum, you probably don't want to watch me lurch and gasp for air, with my open eyes watching you, it will be bad for me to writhe and gnash my teeth infront of you My captors, kill me so quick and dump my body in the great Nile so that at least even if I did not go there in my lifetime, my blood can reach the Mediterranean sea, and the crocodiles can have a feast that night.”

I prayed, not that I am your everyday superstitious person but as a Christian, I prayed that this dream never comes to pass. Then a voice from above told me that it is already happening but the victims are still too meek to retaliate or the survivors are too busy to mind!

They don’t even know the next victim!

That is Wrong With Our Country!

Internet photo (Maybe subject to copyright)

Sometimes I seriously doubt whether I can make a good politician. My perception of politicians in Ugandan context is a group of people who pull off as very important people when in real sense they are not. I am still not convinced that the world cannot exist without politicians. Because honestly, an accountant keeps books, a doctor treats people, an administrator organises faculties, a teacher educates a nation, a pilot, captain or driver ferries people and goods, a judge and lawyers deliver justice and a police officer keeps law and order (depending on country). But what does a politician do?

When discussing patriotism I don't even think that many politicians especially in Uganda should lay a claim. In many cases they are the most unproductive and ironically they are unnecessarily many and highly paid members of our society. Everywhere you look there is a politician that we could do without but they have strategically placed themselves to assert relevance.

That is why in build up to Uganda's football match against Senegal in the round of 16 at AFCON 2019 when one MP criticized the players and questioned their patriotism it got me laughing so hard that I missed the match, which match we were supposed to lose.

A member of parliament earns over $100,000 a year, and they are unnecessarily over 400 in number. In comparison Uganda 30 Cranes players earn allowances sometimes once in two years and we have to make them beg for it. And when it gets to She-Cranes, it is even “worser” than bad.

Then a member of parliament questions a sportsman's patriotism? Of course if there was a machine that measures patriotism, politicians’ measure would always be below average or in negative. Don’t you see these guys who keep deposing dictatorships and they then turn out to be worse? Don’t you know these guys who in their 20^th year at the helm claimed that Obote had overstayed?

But anyway, in a nation where we have turned our priorities upside down, I think this is not going away soon. It is the explanation as to why we keep suffocating ourselves with political positions and discard professionals to the bottom end of the payrol, we pay locally trained doctors peanuts, causing them to look for places where their services are appreciated. Then as a solution we hire Spanish speaking doctors from Cuba to address the shortage and give these Cubans a translator on top of amenities that we denied our own. You may think that our politicians have a grudge with Ugandan born professionals that to increase a teacher’s salary to cover basics, they rather hire Kenyans and pay them double what the Ugandan teachers are requesting for.

Do we need some brain transplants or the results of our mess will teach next generations lessons so big that they will avoid the mistakes of their forefathers?

Of course, our generation is not likely to contribute much to Uganda seeing that we who were born 36 years ago are soon reaching menopause while still believing that Uganda is too difficult to be managed by ourselves or one of our own. And therefore we need to maintain people from the other generation to the extent that even when we need change, we must replace an old turk with a dotard.

I sign out!

When Laws Go On Holiday

By Wabuyi Denis 

Yesterday, we were stopped by a traffic officer for some reason; she knew best. But after greeting, she waved us on without asking any questions. Maybe she was bored and wanted someone to talk to. Indeed if I was a traffic officer and felt bored, I would stop every vehicle, greet all the occupants, one at a time then wave them off. But the less than 30 seconds interaction with the officer brought back memories of my first encounter with law enforcement. 

Matatu on a road in Kampala (Photo by Daily Monitor)

One time; those days when I was studying at Uganda College of Commerce (UCC) in Tororo, I witnessed something comic which keeps coming to mind whenever I see a traffic Police officer. Being a law abiding citizen, it was also my first ever encounter with law enforcers.

I had boarded one of those ragged matatus which plow the Mbale - Tororo road which road was also ragged. As we approached a place referred to as Mailo-aboro in Japadhola, a traffic officer waved down the matatu. From his (driver) reaction, I sensed that something was terribly wrong; either with our driver who was also ragged or the ragged vehicle which was ferrying us, the ragged executive officers.

We later on learnt that our ragged driver was actually not a driver but a conductor who was sitting in for his boss and he did not possess a driving license.

The traffic officer could not take our ragged conductor cum driver’s defense to his crime.

The excuse that the ragged guy gave was: "My boss (in reference to the officer), today is a Sunday. I did not therefore expect you (traffic Police) to be working. I have always been driving on Sundays without a license and have never been stopped"

So, our driver was perplexed to find out that the laws had not gone on holiday, as they always do.

In the confusion which ensued, I misplaced my kaveera of roasted ground nuts. Therefore, my first encounter with law enforcement deprived me of the groundnuts which were to accompany my breakfast for 30 days.

That is why I fear being stopped by traffic officers.